A few hours later, she fell into unconsciousness.
By the end of the week, she was dead.
“Come on, Willow,” I quietly gritted out. “Where’s the girl who never backs down from a fight—who’s always up in everybody’s face?”
A flood of memories flashed, the thousands of reckless things she’d done throughout the years. Stupid things, selfish things, but also brave things, too. Yeah, she was definitely brave. And stubborn. And overwhelming. And… so… goddamn all-consuming.
“I knew a woman like that.”
The short-haired woman from earlier, the one who’d claimed this camp as hers, was standing in the doorway, holding my bag and tool belt in her hands.
“She was always primed for a fight.” Entering the room, the woman placed my things by the door. “And never afraid to speak her mind, and sometimes she was brave to the point of stupid.” She paused at the edge of Willow’s bed. “The infection took her,” the woman continued wistfully. “I’ll never get over it. A spirit like hers deserved so much better than to die in a bed.”
I snorted softly. “Willow says that shit all the time—how she wants to go out in a blaze of glory.”
The woman smiled. “Your Willow certainly does seem to have a lot in common with my Evelyn… and if Willow is anything like she was then I know she’ll fight this with everything she has.”
My Willow. Shaking my head, I said, “She’s not mine—we’re not together.” I fumbled to get the right words out. “My brother and her—they were together.”
The woman’s gaze shot to mine, the faraway look in her eyes fading fast. “I see. I guess I just assumed you two were together—you seemed like a man desperate to save the woman you love.”
Shocked silent and blinking rapidly, I spent the next several seconds clearing my throat. “No, it’s not like that between us… we, uh, we don’t even like each other… ” Realizing how ridiculous I sounded, my words dwindled and I quickly changed topics. “Yeah, so about earlier—you guys were right to be cautious. I’m sorry I was being a dick.”
She laughed lightly. “Apologies aren’t your forte, I’m guessing? Look, I’m not in any position to be holding someone’s emotions in a time of crisis against them. As long as you’ve got yourself under control now, I think we’ll be fine… ” she trailed off, tilting her head to one side. “You know, I’ve just realized, I haven’t even asked you your name.”
“Logan,” I offered.
“It’s nice to meet you, Logan—my name is Liesel. And now that we’ve been formally introduced, I’d like to officially welcome you and Willow to Silver Lake, formerly known as Silver Lake Summer Camp for Youths.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I replied. “… you seem to have a really nice setup here. I haven’t seen anything like it in… ” I trailed off as I realized I hadn’t ever seen anything quite like it. Most of the camps we’d come across had been shoddily thrown together with no real sense of order. Fanatics or hopeless cases seemed to be all the world had left to offer.
Leisel flashed me a wry smile. “Exactly. So you can understand our caution when it comes to newcomers, yes?”
“Yeah. I get it.”
“Good, and now that that’s settled, Davey will be showing you to your cabin.” Stepping aside, she waved Davey forward.
“My cabin?” Startled, I looked at Willow. “Can’t I just stay with her?”
Leisel pressed her lips together, her gaze hardening. “I’m afraid not. This isn’t just our doctor’s office, it’s her home too.”
She said nothing else, though the rest went without saying—I was still a stranger who still posed a threat, and they were going to continue taking every necessary precaution.
“Is this cabin nearby?” I asked. “I’d like to be close to her.”
“It’s a small camp; everything is close. However, you don’t need to worry. If Willow’s condition changes in any way during the night, someone will come for you.”
Glancing again at Willow, I rubbed anxiously at the back of my neck. They weren’t going to hurt her—I felt that in my gut. But I still couldn’t fathom leaving her, especially after everything I’d gone through to get her here. Yet, if I wanted these people to trust me, I knew I needed to trust them first.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly.
“Good.” Liesel clapped her hands together. “Logan, Davey, I’ll leave you to it.”
Davey stepped forward, eyeing me contemptuously. “You comin’ or what?”
As we passed through an area cluttered with cabins, a dozen different smells assaulted me—burning wood, cooking meat, and the fresh damp scent of a nearby body of water.
Counting twelve cabins in total, Davey led me to the last in the row, the seemingly worst of the bunch, with a thin, rickety door and a crumbling front step. While Doc’s home merely had the outward aesthetics of a log cabin, the smaller structures on this side of camp were actual cabins, each with a suspended floor and a crawl space underneath.
Upon entering, Davey flicked a switch and two wall-mounted lantern lights flickered on. The cabin consisted of two rooms—the room I was standing in, and what looked to be a small bathroom. Two sets of wooden bunk beds, along with two small dressers, adorned each corner of the room. A lamp sat alone in the center of the room, missing both bulb and shade. Near the entrance, a dust-covered wrought-iron stove had been fitted with piping that crawled up the wall and out through the roof, serving as a chimney. All above me, exposed beams crisscrossed beneath the peaked ceiling, draped with cobwebs.
“Don’t be keepin’ the lights on all night—we run on solar power here,” Davey said. “And don’t be leavin’ the cabin either until someone comes for ya. We got patrols going round the clock and the guards at the gate can see the whole place at any given time. Ain’t nobody does nothin’ without someone else seein’, ya get me?”
“What if I have to piss?” I asked, deadpan. “Should I just pick a corner?”
“The whole camp runs on well water,” Davey retorted. “Got a septic tank, too. You can piss in the toilet—you can even flush it.”
I blinked in surprise.
Smiling smugly, Davey turned to leave. “Welcome back to civilization, shithead,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
I hurried to fasten the lock—a single hook-and-eye latch, where one good shove would render it useless. Turning, I faced the room with skepticism. Was this place for real? Lights, a doctor, and running water?
Dropping my bag, I rushed inside the small bathroom. It was nothing special—an old toilet with exposed piping and a porcelain sink set atop a small cupboard, its metal fixtures rusted and flaking. A mirror hung above the sink, cloudy and speckled with spots. Twisting the levers on the sink, my breath hitched as clear water sputtered from the rusty faucet.
I might have run my hands beneath it if they hadn’t been bandaged; instead, I dropped my head beneath the stream, swallowing mouthful after delicious mouthful. Having drunk my fill, I flushed the toilet merely to see if it would. As water rushed into the bowl, quickly spiraling down the drain, for several seconds, I could only stare.
Making my way back into the other room in a daze, I eventually wandered to the nearest window. Pulling back the torn swathe of fabric hanging there, I pushed open the cracked and cloudy glass-paned window and peered outside.
The lights were on inside the cabin closest to me and I could see figures moving in a way that seemed like they were dancing. Although faint, I could hear music—a familiar song that had me quickly closing the window and staggering back. Backing straight into a bunk bed, I sat down hard, the unexpected feel of the soft mattress beneath me had me shooting back up to my feet.
“Fuck,” I whispered, swallowing hard.
This was the kind of place I’d always hoped to find; somewhere safe for Lucas and Willow, where they could carry on being careless and reckless and completely self-absorbed, and I wouldn’t have to constantly worry about them. A place where I could finally fulfill my prom
ise to Willow’s mother.
Unshed tears burned behind my eyes; what sort of cruel cosmic joke was this—finding the answer to my prayers just days after losing Lucas, and with Willow barely hanging on? I couldn’t be here alone. This wasn’t right; I didn’t deserve this without them—this place with electricity and running water. Without them… none of this meant anything.
I heard a noise—a weak, anguished sound that had me glancing wildly around the room, searching for the source. Realizing it was me, I barked out a laugh that caught in my throat and ended on a sob. Sinking to the floor, I stared miserably across the room.
“I found it, Luke,” I whispered hoarsely. “I found that fucking place I’d always promised.”
Willow
The first thing I’m aware of is pain.
So. Much. Fucking. Pain.
Pulsating, throbbing pain that brought tears to my eyes. As I struggled to lift my hand, to move muscles that didn’t seem to want to cooperate, a gasp lodged in my throat, burning its way through my next breath. I felt like lead, like dead swollen weight set aflame.
“Hey there, honey,” an unfamiliar voice called out. “Everything’s okay. Just lay back—lay still. I’ll get you something for the pain, alright?”
Jerking in surprise, I fought to open my crust-covered eyes, frantic to understand what was happening—why I was in so much pain, why I couldn’t move, and who was speaking to me. As my eyes peeled painfully open, and I blinked through the glaring light above, an unknown face hovered in and out of focus.
“Who…” I croaked. “Where…”
Dark eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re safe, honey, no one’s gonna hurt you here.” The no-nonsense voice turned soft and soothing. “No need to fret. Now I’m going to get you something for the pain—you just hold tight.”
I felt a cold rush up my arm, followed quickly by a hot flush, heat that began in my arm and spread quickly through my entire body. The pain in my leg faded as my thoughts muddled.
“There we go,” the voice said. “Now you just rest, alright? I’m going to go get that good-looking young man of yours.”
Luke? A wave of relief washed over me even as my stomach flipped.
It came back to me slowly, a trickle of memories that quickly turned into an avalanche. Events flashed out of order: Lucas and I dancing in the rain. Logan yelling at me, demanding that I drink something. Lucas and I running through the woods, laughing. Lucas presenting me with breakfast in bed, flowers caught between his teeth. Lucas grinning at me just before dropping out of sight.
Tears formed and fell, streaking hot tracks down my cheeks. Every breath felt like fire in my lungs. All these years together, fighting to stay alive, and for what? It was all for nothing. Lucas was gone and I was…
I was in hell.
“Willow?” A faraway voice tugged at me, deep and gruff and distinct. Prying my heavy eyelids open again, I found Logan looming over me, his eyes bloodshot and ringed with bruising, his skin smudged with dirt. His hair was a mess—stringy and greasy, with large clumps that had been pulled from his bun, left sticking up in all different directions.
“You’re awake,” Logan rasped. “Jesus Christ, you’re actually fucking awake.”
The unfamiliar face stood opposite Logan, lifting my arm, wrapping something around it. A blood pressure cuff, I realized, as it tightened uncomfortably. I looked at Logan, still not quite understanding what was happening.
“She’s a doctor,” he explained, swallowing thickly. “We’re in a camp… there’s people here…”
“You can call me Doc—everyone else does,” the voice said. “Now how’s that pain? Has it lessened some?”
Keeping my eyes on Logan, I nodded jerkily.
“Now, you’re not out of the woods yet,” the voice continued. “You’ve been pretty out of it for the last few days, but your fever has finally broken and some of the swelling in your leg has gone down. Even your color is looking better. Vitals are good…” the voice trailed off as something cool was placed on my chest. “Take a deep breath for me, honey. Good, good. Yes, I’d say everything is looking as good as can be expected right now.”
“Where… are we?” I attempted to ask, the words barely audible.
“You’re at Silver Lake, honey,” the voice replied, sounding farther away than it had just seconds ago. “Let me be the first to officially welcome you.” Footsteps echoed all around and the unfamiliar face reappeared. “Help her drink this, Logan—just a few sips, mind you.”
“It’s a camp,” Logan muttered as he helped to lift my head. “They’ve got walls and running water and electricity.” Cool water dripped into my mouth and my lips parted, feeling suddenly parched. Though as the first drops trickled past my throat, I began to cough, sputtering and heaving, until I could breathe again.
“That’s enough for now,” the unfamiliar voice chastised. “She can try again later.”
“So you’ve found it,” I rasped once I’d stopped coughing. “Your perfect place…”
We stared at one another, Logan’s red-rimmed eyes boring into mine, until my eyelids began to droop, and Logan’s pained expression slipped away into darkness.
I awoke with a start, pain and panic forcing me upright even as my body resisted the movement. Falling back against the bed with a groan, I gritted my teeth, tears blurring my vision, breathing sharply against the throbbing pain. Once I could see through my tears, I glanced around the dim room, startled to find Logan sleeping upright in a chair beside my bed.
His arms folded over his chest, his head was bent back against the wall, his eyes closed as his chest rhythmically rose and fell. Even in sleep, he scowled, and every so often he would twitch and shift, clearly uncomfortable and sleeping fitfully. Noticeably wet, his blond hair was pulled into a loose ball on top of his head, several strands hanging free and dripping water onto the clean white T-shirt he was wearing. A vague memory niggled my thoughts—the unfamiliar voice demanding that Logan take a shower.
I continued watching him sleep, soon recalling more events with better clarity. Despite me fighting him every step of the way, Logan had managed to do exactly what he’d always promised he’d do—he’d found us a safe haven. And Lucas, the very best of us, the kindest soul I’d ever known, would never get to see it.
Pain sliced through my chest, making breathing difficult once more. Why hadn’t Logan left me in that ravine? Lucas was gone, and it was all my fault, and yet… here I was. Logan had saved me… why?
Still staring at Logan, tears filling my eyes, I rasped, “You should have just let me die.”
Logan
“Be careful,” I warned, grabbing hold of Willow’s elbow as she attempted to stand.
Willow scowled, and for a moment I’d thought she might argue. Instead, she merely gripped the walker more tightly, and pulled herself up with a grunt.
Two weeks since our fortunate run-in with Britta and Davey; two weeks of waiting by Willow’s side while she healed, slowly but surely. She was able to get out of bed now and use the walker Doc had given her in order to get herself to and from rooms. Yet, despite her physical improvements, she seemed to be on an emotional decline—she spoke very little, some days not at all. Mostly, she slept or read the books that Doc would lend her.
I’d been concerned at first; it wasn’t like Willow to be quiet, but Doc had mentioned to me that everyone deals with grief differently. Some people lash out, she’d said. Others tuck themselves away and wallow. Then she’d looked me in the eyes and said pointedly, and some people never deal with it at all.
“Go slow,” I said, cringing as Willow began limping forward at a pace that seemed far too fast for someone who was still healing. Though the swelling in her calf had gone down considerably, her leg remained bandaged and Doc was still applying topical antibiotics to her wound a few times a day.
“I am going slow,” Willow muttered, just before stumbling.
My grip tightened on her arm, halting her fall. “Christ—why don�
�t you ever listen? I told you to let me carry you.”
“I’m not a baby; I don’t need to be carried.” Yanking her arm from my grip, Willow resumed limping through the room while I hovered at her elbow. Crossing the threshold into the waiting room, she stumbled again; I reached for her and she shoved me away.
“Back off,” she snapped. “It’s not like I don’t know how to walk all of a sudden.”
Yeah, I wanted to snap back, but you also almost died from an infection in your leg that left you bedridden and at death’s door for three weeks, all because you didn’t clean your wound like I’d fucking told you to. But I stayed silent, mostly due to the look Doc was giving me from her waiting place by the front door—a pointed look that was telling me to keep my mouth shut.
“This is a fiercely stubborn woman we’ve got here, honey,” Doc whispered as she came to stand beside me. “You need to let her do her thing, alright?”
“You mean fiercely stupid?” I muttered, holding my hands up in acquiescence. I’d only wanted to help, to prevent Willow from hurting herself; but, as was always the case, Willow was dead set on proving herself, even to the point of stupidity.
Leaving Doc’s place, we followed a well-worn path toward the center of camp. Willow remained in the lead, setting the pace. As we moved slowly around the small grove of trees that kept the Nurse’s building partially hidden from the rest of camp, Willow began to slow, eventually coming to a stop at the concrete base of an empty flagpole. Approaching her, I found her eyes saucer wide and her jaw hanging slack.
It was midmorning and camp was bustling with activity. People paused to glance curiously at our trio, some even flashing curious smiles in Willow’s direction. An older man, walking his dog on a leash, tipped his hat in greeting. A woman carrying a baby in a sling waved hello. Nearby, a small group of children were playing hopscotch in the dirt.
While I’d had weeks to grow somewhat accustomed to our new surroundings, this was Willow’s first day outside of Doc’s cabin. “Are you okay?” I asked.
The Blood that Binds (Thicker than Blood Book 3) Page 11